<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4979357707859146027</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:19:49.917-07:00</updated><category term='House'/><category term='School'/><title type='text'>Shell Shock CORI</title><subtitle type='html'>A glimpse into my crazy wonderful life!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coricarrico.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4979357707859146027/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coricarrico.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Cori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07384206509634692199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_OmkeSVOzyVw/SIAVU0GN9iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Z1sTx6H0F-I/S220/100_2274.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>2</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4979357707859146027.post-1919145543800598788</id><published>2008-08-21T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T22:05:40.674-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='House'/><title type='text'>Moving....again.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OmkeSVOzyVw/SK5Fu0ATOXI/AAAAAAAAACQ/08iHoTFGvf4/s1600-h/11202223872.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237200087214668146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OmkeSVOzyVw/SK5Fu0ATOXI/AAAAAAAAACQ/08iHoTFGvf4/s320/11202223872.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;Old House&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;Moving is synonymous with the term Military Family. Sure we move when the army tells us. Ac&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OmkeSVOzyVw/SK5Ibno8FII/AAAAAAAAACY/HTtfL9QPDPg/s1600-h/100_2451.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237203056012825730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OmkeSVOzyVw/SK5Ibno8FII/AAAAAAAAACY/HTtfL9QPDPg/s200/100_2451.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;tually I just had a plaque made that says "Home is where the Army sends us" followed by all of our many duty stations. It took me 30 minutes to remember all the locations and dates. It was fun! So anyway.... moving. We have never been in any house or duty station for t&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OmkeSVOzyVw/SK5IcM78h0I/AAAAAAAAACg/DoqwTOdoTBE/s1600-h/100_2489.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237203066024658754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OmkeSVOzyVw/SK5IcM78h0I/AAAAAAAAACg/DoqwTOdoTBE/s200/100_2489.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;hat matter longer than 2 and 1/2 years. (We top 14 years this December in service.) What do you call it when we choose to move without the Army telling us to? Ummm..........Crazy? How about choosing to move when your husband is gone for training. Hmmm........Psychotic? Well whip out the straight jacket because I just did both.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I told James where we were moving. No worries.&lt;br /&gt;So let me just say that I &lt;em&gt;am &lt;/em&gt;crazy. And to top it off the house we are moving into won't be available until October but we had to vacate our current house pronto. (Serious communication problems with the sellers.) PLUS...it was still summer break. Can I get that straight jacket now?&lt;br /&gt;So, I had to find someplace for me and my four kids to live for two months and pack up and move everything into storage AND..... sell our old house AND...... buy our new house. Both without realtors. So much cheaper that way! (shoot me now)&lt;br /&gt;So, to begin our new blog that my husband isn't even aware of yet, I will let you all know how it went.&lt;br /&gt;.......&lt;strong&gt;Edited For Content&lt;/strong&gt;.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;other than that is wasn't too bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End of story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;P.S I'll post pics of the new house when I get to actually move in it. And yes, James will be home by then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4979357707859146027-1919145543800598788?l=coricarrico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coricarrico.blogspot.com/feeds/1919145543800598788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4979357707859146027&amp;postID=1919145543800598788' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4979357707859146027/posts/default/1919145543800598788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4979357707859146027/posts/default/1919145543800598788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coricarrico.blogspot.com/2008/08/movingagain.html' title='Moving....again.'/><author><name>Cori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07384206509634692199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_OmkeSVOzyVw/SIAVU0GN9iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Z1sTx6H0F-I/S220/100_2274.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OmkeSVOzyVw/SK5Fu0ATOXI/AAAAAAAAACQ/08iHoTFGvf4/s72-c/11202223872.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4979357707859146027.post-1058950479104471302</id><published>2008-08-21T18:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T21:25:51.252-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><title type='text'>Day 1.... Operation Kindergarten.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OmkeSVOzyVw/SK4iOPkgwHI/AAAAAAAAABQ/-PMj8sJQz6Y/s1600-h/School+kids.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237161044771651698" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OmkeSVOzyVw/SK4iOPkgwHI/AAAAAAAAABQ/-PMj8sJQz6Y/s200/School+kids.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;I said goodbye to three kids this year on the first day of school. Three.....not two. So needless to say an array of emotions swarmed around me as I walked to the van holding one little Andi hand and nothing else, feeling a little off balance.&lt;br /&gt;This day has been counted down to for at least a year now maybe two. ( Sam can be quite a busy kid and as his teacher says..."he's all boy!") I found it very strange that I could not pinpoint one of the millions of things I told myself would be easier to do minus one crazy Sam. I waited for the haze to lift off my memory......nothing. So I reverted back to my usual schedule, to the Gym we went. &lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;I walked Andi in and headed for the nursery keeping my peripheral vision scanning all angles to see when Sam would start exploring. Wait, I just left Sam at school. Hmmm... I am gonna have to get used to that. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OmkeSVOzyVw/SK4-r6B7VfI/AAAAAAAAACI/KcrhZ-V_Q7w/s1600-h/Copy+of+Pic070.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237192340711101938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OmkeSVOzyVw/SK4-r6B7VfI/AAAAAAAAACI/KcrhZ-V_Q7w/s200/Copy+of+Pic070.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So I signed Andi in noticing I was the first to do so as usual, and turned to leave my cutie, she just stood there.... where's her Sam? What is there to do now without watching Sam get into everything and bringing her along for the ride. Not to mention being unable to take her eyes off his ever changing engagements. It's not that she was sad,  she was when we left school, hence the outstretched arms and yelling "Saaaaaaaaammmm." No.....now she was just wondering what to do first. "Where to begin?" was written on her face. I walked over and kissed her on the forehead and said "have fun baby!" She looked at me and said in her sweet voice, "Bye Mommy," and went to work exploring her environment through her eyes.&lt;br /&gt;The rest of my day turned into a blur that would hardly be writable let alone readable. We picked the kids up after school and spent the ride home listening to a melody of 'Sam kicking the back of Sadey's seat and smiling his impish grin' coupled with a rendition of 'how many different ways can everybody say or scream, Sam stop it!' It just didn't feel normal up until now. All was right with the world. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4979357707859146027-1058950479104471302?l=coricarrico.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://coricarrico.blogspot.com/feeds/1058950479104471302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4979357707859146027&amp;postID=1058950479104471302' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4979357707859146027/posts/default/1058950479104471302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4979357707859146027/posts/default/1058950479104471302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://coricarrico.blogspot.com/2008/08/day-1-operation-kindergarten.html' title='Day 1.... Operation Kindergarten.'/><author><name>Cori</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07384206509634692199</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_OmkeSVOzyVw/SIAVU0GN9iI/AAAAAAAAAAM/Z1sTx6H0F-I/S220/100_2274.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OmkeSVOzyVw/SK4iOPkgwHI/AAAAAAAAABQ/-PMj8sJQz6Y/s72-c/School+kids.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
